Somewhere there must be a light brighter than yours.
If there is not, I am lost in a wallowing well of sin.
If I cannot gather more hope than I see in your eyes
I may as well be sunk in a thousand winters.
Surely, I cannot deem you worthy,
Surely I must surface to something other than this pain?
I would rip my beating heart from my chest
And hold it firmly in my hand to see you smile.
Does this blood that runs hotly through my fingers banish your hate?
What must I do?
What torture must I endure?
I am afraid.
